by Brenda Joyce
Jan cut her off.
Sam stood, her pulse racing, which dismayed her. She had to stay professional. And that wasn’t the easy task it had once been. She opened her desk drawer and stared at the DVD in it. She’d made a copy.
She slowly closed the drawer. Jan was undoubtedly powdering her porcelain nose and applying lipstick and hitching up her control-top pantyhose. But even her falsies wouldn’t distract a man from that DVD.
Not that she’d decided to show it to Maclean.
Nick claimed she wasn’t in control. If she showed Ian the sex tape, she’d be in charge. Sam had not a doubt. Unless, of course, he’d already seen it.
The thought made her breathless.
She’d make the decision about whether to show him the tape or not down the road, she decided. If he hadn’t seen it, the choice to reveal the DVD to him was a powerful weapon hidden up her sleeve. She’d be wagging the dog the moment she did so, and not by its tail. Sam smiled.
But it was time to think about the negotiation to come. She was thoughtful, as she’d been for the past two hours since Nick had explained the power of the page of illusion to her. They wanted and needed the power, because they had to keep it from winding up in the wrong hands. Ian wanted his file. A trade would be so perfect, except that he wanted a few hundred million dollars, too.
Did Ian know what the page could do? She hoped not. If he did, then the fact that he’d sell it to anyone made him ruthlessly selfish, with no concern at all for the welfare of anyone innocent. Maybe she was becoming attached, because she refused to believe he could be ruthless like that. Or, she didn’t want to believe it.
The power of virtual control was truly terrifying.
A person would believe and feel whatever the power broker wanted him or her to believe and feel. If Sam were a victim of that power, she could be standing in Nick’s office but think herself lost in a blizzard in the Arctic, freezing to death. She wouldn’t see the office walls. She wouldn’t even see Nick. She’d be wandering in a blizzard, blinded by the snow and freezing to death.
Sam wondered if a person rescued from the effects of such power would wind up frost-bitten and ice-burned. Nick didn’t know. Neither one of them wanted to find out.
It wasn’t hard to believe that such a power could exist. The question was, had the power survived the ages?
The Masters of Time believed in the Duisean, and she did, too. In fact, the Book of Roses had mentioned other great books, other dynasties and secret sects, all dedicated to the preservation of mankind in different parts of the world and other times, all with various magic and powers. The war between good and evil was as old as time. The Celtic gods had given the Duisean to the Masters centuries ago, well before Christ, when their godly powers had been strongest. In those early days, magic had abounded. The gods had frequently shown themselves to mankind.
In medieval times, not only were the Masters powerful, the gods were fairly active still, even if most of the medieval world didn’t know it. The page had surely had immense power then. But near-immortals like the Masters were becoming rarer and rarer, even as evil was exploding in population and power. There was less magic in the world now than there used to be. The question was, did the page of illusion still have the same power? She’d asked Nick.
“Who knows? Can we take the chance that it does not?”
Point made, she thought, walking down the hall. If the power of virtual control existed, the U.S. government had to obtain it and keep it out of the wrong hands. As she thought about that, the elevator opened. Before Maclean even stepped out, she felt his hot male energy and his otherworldly power. Their gazes locked as he paused in the hall. He slowly smiled at her.
He wore a black polo shirt, his gold watch and those almost tight jeans. He wore a hammered Celtic cross on a leather cord. He looked confident, L.A. casual, old-world wealthy and drop-dead sexy. She thought about the DVD, when he’d looked even sexier, and had been confident as all hell about what he was doing.
Last night, he’d been furious when he’d learned about the file. When he’d called her later, when he’d somehow been spying on her from across town with his mind, he’d been in a sexy, seductive mood. It took her half a second to know his mood was good now. Lazy, interested, and as always, hot…
She really wanted to show him that DVD. She couldn’t imagine his reaction. “Good as my word,” she murmured.
“I never doubted you’d set up the meeting,” he returned. “Did ye rest at all last night?”
“I was watching a movie,” she said with meaning.
His gaze sharpened.
Suddenly Sam realized he wasn’t in her mind. She just knew he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. “What’s wrong? Not running on all cylinders today?”
“I’m distracted,” he said, nodding at the supershort hem of her frayed skirt.
“You’re always distracted. It’s never stopped you before.” As she spoke, she realized he might be putting on a front. In another moment, he’d be going head to head with Nick over the file. And that file meant everything to him. He was hiding behind his sexuality, using it as a distraction.
“Nothing stops me when I’m after something I really want,” he murmured, pausing beside her. “Yer eye looks better.” He touched her cheekbone.
Sam simply looked at him. Her body was hot. Everything was racing. His finger felt amazing on her skin—and it was only on her cheek. Tonight they were going to Hemmer’s. She could use Hemmer’s sick invitation as an excuse to get what she really wanted—Maclean.
He had to know what she was thinking, because his eyes smoldered.
And then she heard high heels clicking. She tensed, the sound too familiar. Jan was approaching. Sam shifted to turn, and she saw Ian’s eyes widen. Then he smiled, pleased, looking her up and down.
“Ian Maclean?” Jan asked softly. “I’m Nick’s assistant, Jan Bentley.” She held out her hand. “If you have any dealings here at HCU, I’m your go-to gal.”
“How lucky fer me.”
Sam said tersely, “Yes, how lucky, you get to be another idiot panting in the long line below her pedestal, waiting to get invited into Saint Jan’s bed.”
He’d been looking at Jan’s long legs. He met Sam’s gaze, and seemed to be laughing at her. “I beg yer pardon?”
“Do line up,” Sam said in disgust. There’d been no mistaking his interest.
“Sometimes I think you’re thirteen, not just shy of thirty,” Jan said. “Is this high school?”
“It can’t be—you’re forty,” Sam snapped. “It’s your super lucky day, Maclean. She’s now my partner. We can do a threesome at Hemmer’s tonight.”
Ian choked, possibly in laughter.
Jan said sharply, “What are you talking about?”
“We’re going to a party. But you can bow out. Feel free.” Aware she shouldn’t be showing just how pissed she was, and also aware she shouldn’t be so livid, Sam stalked ahead of them to Nick’s office. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was jealous of Maclean’s typical male interest. But jealousy was another word that was not in her vocabulary. Then she halted and faced them. “Jan isn’t into parties, Maclean. She’s a good girl.”
Ian laughed out loud.
“Lord Maclean, I’m working with Sam, even if she isn’t very happy about it.”
Sam watched her bat her gooey lashes at Ian, smiling and attentive, as if she really were interested in him. But Jan was always turning it on that way, to both men and women, making everyone adore her. Men thought she wanted them, women thought she was their best friend. The act was so good, everyone believed it.
He grinned and looked at Sam. “An’ why would Sam be unhappy to have ye working with us? The more the merrier. And it’s Ian, Ms. Bentley.”
Sam didn’t try to hide her disgust. “I figured you’d be doing cartwheels. So, Jan, are you ready to perform? Think you have the guts? We’re booked tonight and it’s X-rated. The virginal act will have to go. Eit
her that, or you can stay home.”
“But Hemmer wants entertainment,” Ian replied. “I think he’d like Ms. Bentley.”
Sam felt like kicking him where it really hurt. “Ian? Close your mouth. Barbie doesn’t get down and dirty. It’s all a sham.” Sam smiled triumphantly at Jan. “The better to lead you guys on, right, Barbie?”
“Okay, what am I missing?” Jan demanded. “Exactly what are you planning for tonight, Sam?”
“Ian and I have a date with evil,” Sam said flatly. “Hemmer wants us to get it on while he watches. If you’re coming, you’ll need to come. If you get what I mean.”
Jan said tersely, “Sam, do you try to make me hate you? I believe in giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, but it’s becoming impossible to do so with you. And you know what? Nick won’t leave you on this case alone. So if I tell him I can’t work with you, guess what?” Her eyes flashed.
Sam breathed hard. “That’s blackmail.”
“We work together or we won’t work at all! You can mock me at every turn and make fun of my morals, but I happen to have a strong code of ethics. That won’t change, not for you, not for Hemmer and not for anyone.”
Sam felt somewhat chagrined. “Good. Then stay home tonight.”
Jan shook her head, disgusted. “Why on earth would you agree to go to Hemmer’s, on any terms?”
“Guess you missed my report. There’s evil in the vault.”
Jan’s eyes widened.
“Rupert likes me,” Sam said. “He’s offered me a viewing, which will get me into the vault. And he told me to bring Ian so we can have a party.”
Jan absorbed that. “We got back the labs. Hemmer is one hundred percent human. Not a drop of unusual DNA.”
Sam looked at Maclean, who was seriously interested in their exchange now. He said pleasantly, “I could have told ye that and saved ye time and yer tests. But he’s still dangerous.”
“I have no doubt.” Jan smiled. “Nick is waiting.”
Sam wondered if Jan could actually play Ian. As Jan led the way toward Nick’s office, she said, “By the way, thanks for the hot car.”
“So ye like it.” He seemed pleased.
“Oh, I like it. Maybe I’ll even give you that ride.”
Jan paused at Nick’s door to let them walk inside past her. Nick was waiting for them, his hip on the edge of his desk. She knew from his too calm, oh-so-pleasant expression that he was in his I Am Going to Win At All Costs mode.
She forgot about Ian’s interest in Jan. She tensed, glancing at Ian. Maclean wore a nearly identical poker face. But his eyes were as cold as ice.
The energy in the room was hot, male and amping up. Two superbulls were waiting to impale one another. And the worst part was, they both had the otherworldly power to do it.
“Tell the women to leave,” Ian said.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Nick said. “But the ladies can stay.”
“I have an offer fer ye.”
“Everything said in this room stays in this room.”
Ian’s face hardened.
“I know your father and I were hoping this day would come.” Nick smiled. “Of course, I was hoping for more pleasant circumstances. How is Aidan, by the way? How is Lady Brianna?”
Ian’s smile was cold. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t keep in touch. But then, ye know that, don’t ye? It’s in my file.”
“Of course you wouldn’t know. You’re out of your time. All alone, consorting with evil, stealing what you want, when you want…Isn’t it lonely, to be living like that?”
“I’m here fer my file,” Ian said. “Not to discuss how I live.”
“But I want to discuss how you live and the choices you’ve made. Because, you see, those choices impact me.” He added, “Aidan must be so disappointed in you.”
Ian was becoming angrier by the minute. Sam felt like interfering. Why did Nick have to dig a knife in?
“In fact, his heart must be broken.”
Ian was incredulous. “If his heart is broken, that’s his problem, not mine! I’m here for my file. It belongs to me. I want it.” Ian seethed.
“And the old gods must be pissed. Not a good idea, to annoy any god, even an old one.”
Ian laughed. “The old gods don’t care what I do and if ye think otherwise, yer a fool.”
“The one thing I’m not, Maclean, is a fool.”
“If ye have a file on me, then yer very foolish,” Ian said, softly now. “Because I won’t allow it.”
Nick grinned. “Here at HCU, I am king. All the files here belong to me.”
“Stop baiting him,” Sam said. “A war won’t solve anything.”
Nick glanced coolly at her. Ian turned, his gaze blazing with anger.
“A little sugar goes a long way,” she added.
Ian wasn’t mollified but Nick sighed. “She’s right, Maclean. Let’s start over. I think we can help each other.”
“Really?” Ian mocked. He shuddered, and a number of photographs and plaques fell off the wall, some books tumbling from the bookcases.
“Very adult,” Nick said. “I know you have power, Maclean.”
“Then don’t make me use it.”
Jan walked over to Ian and laid her hand on his arm. Sam blinked in disbelief as Ian shrugged her off. “Ian, give Nick a chance,” Jan tried. “And, Nick, please. He isn’t evil. He’s simply lost his way.”
Ian glanced at her coldly.
Sam choked.
“Damn it, Nick. Give him a break,” Jan added softly.
Ian looked sharply at her. But of course she had his attention—she was Amazing Jan.
“Are you kidding?” Nick asked. “He stole the page of illusion. And he plans to sell it to the highest bidder for cash. I am not giving him any breaks. Let’s make a deal, Maclean. One that helps us both.”
Jan gestured at the leather sofa and chairs at the far end of the office, her red nails still on Ian’s bare arm. “Why don’t we sit down? Would you like a drink, Ian?”
He looked at her, then at Sam. “No.”
Jan dropped her hand. She shared a quick look with Nick. Sam wished she could read their minds.
Nick grimaced. “All right, Maclean. Let’s start over. Jan is right—she usually is. My bad, but then, I’m not a diplomat. However, I’m sure you understand. I’m just a wee bit nervous over the page being in the wrong hands—and falling into worse hands. Not to mention I almost lost one of my best agents in that damned stupid car chase yesterday.”
Ian folded his arms tightly across his chest. “Sam didn’t die.”
Nick smiled pleasantly. “Let’s keep it that way. Because I’m real fond of my little Frisbee-wielding femme fatale. If Sam dies on your watch, you die.”
Ian smiled back at him unpleasantly. “The one thing I don’t want,” he said very softly, “is our Sam dead.”
“Be careful, Maclean. Because the player might get played.”
“I look forward to it.”
Sam stepped between them. “Time out. We’re making a deal, remember?”
“How could I forget?” Nick asked too softly.
Sam lost her temper. “Then do it! Nick, he’s one of the good guys, damn it.”
Nick finally gave her his attention. “No, he’s not. He could be, but instead, he deals with demons and mutts, the tainted, the corrupt. He’ll sell the page to anyone, good or evil, as long as the price is right. And he might even sell it to evil, just to say I gotcha. Am I right, Maclean?” Nick’s cold blue gaze settled on Ian.
“Yer so right,” Ian said. “In fact, if ye don’t give me the file and destroy all copies while I watch, I will sell it to the first demon who bids on it—with pleasure.”
This was going from bad to worse.
Nick shook his head, his mouth hard and tight. “I knew it. He’s played you for a fool, Sam. He doesn’t need a break. He needs to be broken.”
“Can you try to remember what he’s lived through?” she cried. “He’s already bro
ken!”
Ian whirled. “Shut up,” he told her, livid. “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it.”
She stiffened. Damn it, she thought, really shaken. Her heart actually ached for him. He shouldn’t have this kind of past to hide.
“I thought so. You feel sorry for him,” Nick accused.
Sam tried to block her thoughts from him. “I’m trying to broker a deal here. No easy task, with both of you being hormonally challenged. Maybe we should bleed some testosterone out of you both the way wildlife guys milk rattlesnakes, before this meeting becomes World War IV.”
Nick ignored her. “Okay, Maclean. Here’s the deal. I’ll give you the original file and walk you through the destruction of every copy—after you’ve handed over the page and it’s been authenticated by my people.”
Ian laughed, the sound mocking. He said, low and still flushed, “I’ll consider selling the U.S. government the page. And as a sign of my good faith, I’ll postpone the auction fer another week, so you can find the cash you’ll need to make a proper bid. I’ll even discount it. But in return, ye give me the original file now. When we make a deal, I’ll destroy the copies and then give ye the page.”
Nick stared. “You know we don’t have the kind of money that Hemmer and his kind have. Our budget is about two cents. And I don’t trust you as far as I can spit.”
Ian shrugged. “I’ll let the page go for twenty-five million, U.S.” he said. “Hemmer paid over two hundred million dollars for it,” he added unnecessarily.
Nick stared angrily at him. “I’ll never get that kind of budget approved.”
“Then yer out.”
“Then you’ll never know what’s in your big fat two-inch-thick file, will you? Give us the page and you can have your file, right now. I’ll destroy the backup myself, as you watch.”
Ian glanced at her briefly and said, “Five million U.S. dollars. And I walk out of here with the file. When I receive the cash, we’ll make the trade.”
Nick said swiftly, “I’ll need to make some phone calls. I don’t have the authority to approve the cash and you’re still out of my budget.”
“Fine. Make yer calls. But I am leaving here today with the file.”
